What are you looking at?

The boat's captain doesn't like the look in his green assistant's eyes.

What is it, man? Do you have issue with the way I run my ship?

Nothing. uselessseless.

He should have come alone.

Jose Alvarenga hides beneath a styrofoam box like a hermit crab.

He doesn't bother with God.

Alvarenga knows how this works.

The Almighty is no genie.

All is at hand for those willing to grab it. The sun bakes his lost vessel,

scorching eye of a merciless cyclops. The surrounding ocean is just as ruthless, with its tease of hydration, a cruel joke to have covered the earth with water, then salted it. A sea bird swoops down and lands near his

listless fishing mate. The young man stares dead ahead, not seeming to notice the threat of his

eyes being pecked away. Get away from him. Shoe, you stupid thing. The bird looks at the boat's captain, as if he's crazy.

And now four eyes are staring at him, five including the sun god above.

Alvarenga retreats to his styrofoam shell and looks inward.

What will he do to survive this with all of these eyes on him? Welcome to Maroon's

stories of the catastrophically lost. I'm Jack Luna. This is Aaron Hable. November 17, 2012,

the shores of Chiapas, Mexico, on the border of Guatemala.

36-year-old Jose Salvador Alvarenga stood out amongst his fellow fishermen.

Alvarenga, affectionately known as La Chantia, or the pig, for his pinkish skin and healthy

appetite, was originally from El Salvador, a place he'd fled to avoid

being killed after an altercation, leaving behind a young daughter.

...